


Underwear

by Enide_Dear



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M, i wrote for the Valenwind Zine, just a short little fun fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:08:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24908137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enide_Dear/pseuds/Enide_Dear
Summary: Most of Avalanche were already eating breakfast when Vincent made his appearance, arms folded over his chest and red gaze fixed on a certain pilot, whom they all knew carried a torch the size of Ifrit for the gunner. With absolutely no prequel, Vincent stated deadpan."Chief, I require your underwear."The next few minutes were as explosive as they were amusing.
Relationships: Cid Highwind/Vincent Valentine
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	Underwear

Underwear by Enide Dear

Most of Avalanche were already eating breakfast when Vincent made his appearance, arms folded over his chest and red gaze fixed on a certain pilot, whom they all knew carried a torch the size of Ifrit for the gunner. With absolutely no prequel, Vincent stated deadpan.

"Chief, I require your underwear."

The next few minutes were as explosive as they were amusing.

Cid coughed, spluttered and choked on the piece of toast he'd accidentally inhaled and it was up to Barret as the groups current handler of brain cells to perform a quick Heimlich maneuver on the poor pilot while Aerith hovered nervously nearby with a Phoneix Down. Yuffie and Tifa fell over themselves laughing and Cloud turned the approximate colour of a Summoning Materia. The ruckus didn't die down until Cid, hanging like a ragdoll from the bigger man's arms, managed to croak:

"What?!" In a tone of voice that implied the gunner had asked for something that was partly a dream come true but mostly just a heart attack waiting to happen.

Annoyed, Vincent glared at them all.

"I fail to see what is so amusing about this. We're two weeks out in the wilderness and I have run out of intact underwear. I only require to borrow some from the one person with approximately the same size as me." He sniffed, as if the speech had been a little too stiff even for him. "Clean ones, please."

"Sure! I mean, sure Vince." With some effort, Cid managed to get free from Barret and brush off toast crumbs and tea stains from his jacket. "Jest follow me, I'll see what I have left." He cast a quick glare at the rest of Avalanche who were still watching them amused. It was uncertain if Vincent knew, but Cid was very much aware that the rest of those jackasses saw his fumbling attempts at wooing as the next best thing to a Mideel soap opera, especially out here were other sources of entertainment were scarce. "And none of ya drink my tea while I'm gone, ya hear?!" He shouted at them as he hurried after Vincent towards their tent.

"Like anyone else *could* drink it," Cloud muttered, looking at the teacup. "I could have used it to remove rust from the Buster Sword. It would eat straight through a normal person's stomach lining."

"I tried to give him some of Grandpa's herbal teas once," Nanaki chimed in. "He swore at me for so long I though my ears would match my tail."

"So what do we think about this underwear thing? Is it just a rouse or is Vincent really that oblivious?" Tifa smiled.

"He used to be a Turk, he can't be that naive. Turks are crafty, I should know. I was shadowed by one for years." Aerith shrugged, then her eyes got big. "Wait, was that why I kept having to buy panties? I thought the washing machine ate them!"

In their shared tent a bit away, Cid was rummaging through his military duffel. He had been a dragoon after all, and he knew how to pack a bag with essentials such as spare underwear and socks, emergency rations, soap, tea that didn't taste like a gods damned flower meadow and waterproofed bags of cigs. It didn't take long for him to unearth a pair of new underwear, still in the bag they came in.

"Aha!" He threw them over to Vincent who caught them neatly. "These oughta fit ya. Sorry 'bout the Golden Saucer logo, I had ta pick some and the range in the souvenir shop was limited. It was these or thongs with Dio's printed autograph on 'em."

"Very resourceful of you chief," Vincent held up the package that had a golden chocobo printed on the crotch and sparkling letters forming 'gold cock' underneath. He sighed a little, but he really didn't have any options. "I'm afraid my pants go through underwear quite quickly."

Cid, who may or may not have spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the back of said leather pants and dreaming of their content, had to admit he hadn't thought of that.

"No sweat." He grinned. "Hey maybe I can borrow some of yers if I need it."

Vincent cocked an eyebrow.

"I didn't really have much to pack from my coffin. But if you need anything, of course you are welcome to use it." He waved at his own little bag, which mostly contained oil for his glove and shoes, and a few packages of breath mints. "I suppose you could borrow this." He unclasped his red mantel and swept it around the pilot's shoulder, clasping it in the front. “It will keep you dry in this weather.”

Cid froze like a deer i headlights. The cloak was almost as much a part of Vincent as his claw; he only took it off to sleep. The gesture felt extremely intimate and as if that hadn't been enough, the whole thing *smelled* like Vincent. And it was warm from his body. It felt like being embraced and the scent of tic tacs and funeral roses enveloped him almost up to his eyes due to the big collar.

Vincent smiled, actually smiled, and Cid's heart did a complicated aerial maneuver.

"It suits you, chief. Now scram while I change." He pushed the pilot out of the tent with mild force and zipped it behind him, leaving Cid outside and rocked to the core in the red cloak.

Then pride and joy filled him and he strutted over to the gawking Avalanche members, trailing cloak behind him. Vincent was a taller man than him after all, and the poor cloak would probably be more threadbare after this.

"What are ya'll looking at?!" He picked up his tea, pretending to ignore them all. "Like ya'll haven't worn yer boyfriend's sweaters."

“He’s your boyfriend now?” Tifa asked with arched eyebrows.

“He’s wearing my underwear, what more do ya want?!” Cid took up the teacup. The cape fluttered around him despite there being almost no wind.

“I don’t know, perhaps a kiss or a declaration of love or anything as normal as that,” Barret muttered but was ignored. 

Vincent emerged a little later, looking even more emaciated than normal without the huge cloak to hide in. Eight pairs of eyes zoomed in on his crotch before seven of them quickly turned away and the eight a bit slower. 

Vincent ignored them all to go stand by Cid. Dark and tall, he seemed to almost loom over the pilot in the too big cloak.

“Shall we leave then?” He put Cerberos in its holster. “I’m sure there are monsters eager to be slain waiting for us.”

“Wait, wont ya be cold?” Cid frowned at him, then up at the drizzling rain. 

Vincent shrugged. 

“I have literal hell fire burning inside me. It will take more than a little rain to get me cold.” He stalked off, leaving the others to scramble to keep up. 

“Sure I could fix it, if I had a wrech. I can’t get up bolts with my bare hands ya know.” Cid chewed his cig, looking grumpily at the dune buggy as if it had personally insulted him. 

Avalanche looked around, but there wasn’t much too see; they were in the middle of nowhere with no settlements within days of walking and now the buggy was acting up. A wheel had fallen off and until it was fixed there weren’t getting anywhere. 

“Why didn’t you bring your tools then, old man?” Yuffie whined. “Now we’re stuck here with all these…..trees! I’m bored already.”

As always, the ninja got under Cid’s skin in less than a sentence and they could all but see him bristle which meant another shouting match between the two of them were about to start and probably wouldn’t end for hours. But before Cid could say a single profanity, Vincent gently placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Cid….perhaps there is a way. Would you mind lending me your scarf?”

“Well….no. But why?” Perplexed, Cid forgot all about Yuffie. He handed over the yellow scarf and Vincent turned away to do something in the cover of his cloak. After a short while, he handed over the brass claw to the even more stunned pilot. From inside the cloak, they glimpsed the yellow scarf wrapped around whatever had been under the gauntlet. 

“There. Use that, and you won’t be bare handed. It ought to give you strength enough to remove whatever it was you needed to remove.”

Cid just stared at the brass claw, as did the rest of Avalanche. The cloak had been one thing but this was….

Cid gulped as he put his hand in the still-warm gauntlet and fiddled with the deadly claws. It didn’t fit very well, but he figured it would probably do the trick. Kneeling down by the Dune Buggy, he gently grabbed the errant bolt and twisted. Rust peeled away like flakes of blood when the bolt loosened and fell into his hand and he could hold it up in triumph to the cheers of Avalanche. 

With everyone's eyes fixed on the working pilot, no one really saw the tiny smile on Vincent’s lips. 

“Vince! Vince!” Vincent blinked as the sound of running feet came towards him. The rocket, hurling through space towards it doomed meeting with Meteor, was barely a place to go running in. Cid came to a skidding halt next to him, eyes frantic. “Look, Vince, I might be able ta save us. But I need ta borrow yer bandana.”

Not about to protest, Vincent quickly removed his red headband and handed it over and Cid just as quickly bounded around his own forehead, which Vincent now realized was all but dripping with sweat.

“Sorry, it’s gonna return sweaty. I’ll wash it fer ya.” Cid hurried back the way he’d come and Vincent followed with a bit of morbid curiosity. He had no doubt they would all die here, in a fiery explosion that might not even destroy Meteor, but at the same time he had no doubt that if anyone could save them, it was Cid. 

“What are you doing?” He frowned as Cid leaned over the Yellow Master Materia. “Is this why you are so warm? It’s freezing cold up here, even for me.”

“Really? Here ya go then.” Cid shook of his warm pilot jacket and gently placed on Vincent’s shoulders before leaning back to working on the code to free the Materia. The focus made him sweat even more but now the drops soaked up into the bandana. 

Vincent took the time to sniff the jacket’s lapels. It smelled warm and nice but the thaw he felt inside had nothing to do with temperatures. 

“My eyes hurt.” Vincent squinted but Holy seemed to sense the demons inside him and it didn’t like it. Fortunate that all its power were focused on fighting Meteor. Avalanche was standing on the deck of Highwind, watching the forces fighting for the fate of their world. All the fighting they had done to come this far and it had turned out to be for nothing. Aerith was the one who had saved the world, if it could be saved, in the end. 

Even so, defeating Sephiroth had been a good thing. Like Cid had said, he’d become a disease on the planet and he’d had to be taken out. 

“Hey, lean down yer tall ass, will ya?” Cid grumbled beside him, so close Vincent could feel the heat from his body. They were both sweaty and bloodied after the fight and Cid had bruises all over his face from when he’d fought to reach the lever that had taken them from the exploding crater. Now he got up on his tiptoes to snap his goggles over Vincent’s red eyes. The world immediately got a few shades darker and Vincent blinked in relief. 

“Thank you, chief. I’m afraid I have nothing to lend you this time, though.” He held out his arm with the cloak and Cid moved closer so that they could both snuggle in under it, pressed against one another. “No exchange.”

“‘S alright. It’s been fun though, watching ya undress.” Cid chuckled and started counting off his fingers. “Cloak, gauntlet, bandana…”

“Yes.” Vincent smiled. “Underwear, scarf and jacket. And goggles now.” They stood quiet for a while, watching the slow destruction of Meteor as Holy started tearing it apart. “Still quite a few garments left, isn’t there?”

Under his arm, Cid stiffened a little and turned to look at him. 

“What...what ya mean?” He said in a voice that trembled somewhere between hopeful and unbelieving. 

Vincent leaned down to kiss him, long and slow, as the light around them waxed in intensity. 

“I mean,” he said, leaning his forehead against Cid’s, “that I would like to see what other garments we could shed together.”

The rest of Avalanche was still occupied with the fate of their planet playing out before their eyes. No one saw them slip away to the captain’s cabin. 

The next morning came, despite the odds, and Holy and Meteor had burned out each other. The world still existed as did all the needs of a human bodies which was why Avalanche was once more gathered for breakfast, this time in the airships galley when Cid came stumbling in, looking very dishevelled and tired and as pleased with himself as a chocobo will a barrel full of Greens. He started making tea with barely a ‘Morning’ to the gathered crowd, quite oblivious of how they were all staring at him. 

When he’d downed the first cup - scalding hot - and started the next he was finally awake enough to see their looks. 

“What?” He said defensively. 

“You do not,” Cloud said with remarkable and slightly suspicious authority in a touchy subject, “have the body shape for a leather shirt.”

Cid looked down. The shirt - in leather - hung mostly open over his torso, held together only by a few of the buckled on the very uttermost hole. Between that could be seen quite a lot of pale chest and golden hair, along with an impressive number of love bites and hickeys. A faint blush started creeping up his cheeks. 

“Ah, yeah…..” he coughed a bit embarrassed, “see, I couldn’t find my own t shirt and…”

“Good morning.” The blue t shirt hung like the skin of a shedding snake on Vincent as he stepped into the galley to an eruption of cheers and quite possibly an exchange of money between Tifa and Yuffie. Vincent ignored them as he leaned forward to kiss the spluttering captain. 

With a smile that was equal amount wicked and pleased the gunman added: 

“Look at it from the bright side, chief. At least I didn’t borrow your pants.”


End file.
